


The Pucker Factor

by Nancepance



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Gen, Major Character Injury, Vietnam Era Story, Vietnam War, Wartime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nancepance/pseuds/Nancepance
Summary: Vietnam era story:Hannibal: "These guys gotta have an Achilles' heel. We´ll just keep pushing them and pushing them and pushing them until we find their weak link. It´s the same plan we nailed that Cong general with outside Khe San."Face: "Ah, you mean where I took it in the leg?"Murdock: "I got shot down!"Face: "That was a terrible plan!"Hannibal: "Now we got all the kinks worked out in it."A Small and Deadly War
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	1. S.H.I.T.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Vietnam era fic.  
> Based on the lines in -A Small and Deadly War-  
> Special thanks go out to Miss Eclipse for sharing her research and helping me with this story. I strongly encourage you to read her work. It's really good!  
> Also a nod of recognition to GreyGregory14 for her help with the new chapters.

_July 11th, 1970_  
"The Pucker factor is the formal name of the equation that states: The hairier the situation is…" Another bang rocks the helicopter and its inhabitants as it is pelted by gunfire. "…the more of the seat cushion will be sucked up yer ass." Murdock's Texas drawl can be heard over the intercom while he bobs and weaves the chopper into evasive maneuvers. "It can be expressed in its mathematical formula." A loud bang sounds through the chopper and suddenly engine RPM drops into to the red. In a flurry of movements Murdock engages into autorotation while at the same time looking out for a place to set the bird down. He continues his lecture… "Of S suction, plus H which is height above ground, plus I…"  
"God! Why are you still talking!" The copilot screams at the top of his lungs. Murdock rolls his eyes at the FNG next to him.  
"As I was saying, I stands for interest in staying alive which you seem to have down to a T… Do ya need a pen to write this down?" Spotting a nice cozy hole in the canopy, Murdock fiddles with the angle of the blades to keep rotor RPM within bounds. No use in smacking them into the forest floor after surviving in the first place. "Which brings me to T, the number of tracers comin' yer way." Murdock expertly maneuvers the limping chopper into the clearing and sets it down gently. He powers the bird down and whacks the copilot in the chest with the map while Murdock moves to check on the rest of the crew. "Call in our position will ya. Tell 'em we will rendezvous with the Alpha team we were fixin' to pick up."  
"Rendezvous?! But Captain Murdock!"  
"Do as the man says, boy!" comes a gravelly voice from the choppers crew chief.  
The young copilot looks like he wants to protest some more, but a flick to the ear from the older man has him scrambling for the radio.

Hannibal curses and turns to Ray Brenner. "They shot down Murdock's bird." Ray looks alarmed but doesn't speak. "They are going to rendezvous with us, and COVEY will send someone else to pick us up when they have refueled." The two men turn to the map. "They went down here…" Hannibal indicates a spot not far from their position, but still a few hours hiking.  
"Colonel!" Sergeant Olsen calls out his name while trying to calm down a wounded soldier.  
"Put up a perimeter, I wanna know about anything that moves."  
"Yes Sir." Ray salutes and moves to get the tired men into position while Hannibal kneels beside the panicking young man. He checks out the blood-soaked bandages on his thigh and the sheen of sweat on his face.  
"Hannibal…" Blue eyes flutter close without the man's consent before flying open again, seeking him out immediately.  
"I'm still here." Hannibal puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly. "Help is on the way kid."  
Ray kneels beside him. "How's he doing Colonel?" Hannibal sighs and considers sugar coating it, even though he knows both men won't believe it. They had enough experience to know the difference.  
"You can lie to me if…" The young blond catches his breath before continuing "if that makes you feel… better… Colonel." He smiles weakly, the pain making it look like a grimace instead. Hannibal smiles wistfully at the young man before speaking.  
"You're going to be fine Face." Face nods and squeezes his eyes closed as another wave of pain hits him, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

Murdock moves to the back of the chopper. "God Cap, I'll be picking pieces of foam from between my ass cheeks for weeks after this! " 'Snowy' Kowalski grins widely at the 23-year-old captain while dismounting the big M-60, machine gun and shouldering the ammo belts.  
"At least yer takin' it better than that big baby over 'ere." 'Tennessee' Owens moves into the back and quickly starts gathering stuff. "Called in our coordinates." Murdock nods at the men and checks his service pistol. He shrugs off the near miss, like his crewmen. There's no time to ponder upon the possibilities. Death is always just around the corner.  
"Did you set the charge?" The captain asks while blindly feeling around under the seats. He pulls out two automatic rifles and some extra clips. Tennessee's face lights up. He takes a rifle from the pilot's hands like he's receiving a bouquet of roses and he pitches his voice up high. "Aw capt'n ya shouldn't have." The copilot looks between the two chuckling southerners and peers cautiously at the jungle outside.

Murdock eyes his young peter pilot, shakes his head and hands the boy an M-16.   
"We don't have time for this but listen kid. A bullet with yer name on it WILL find you…"  
"And so will those addressed: To whom it may concern." Snowy claps the young man on the back before exiting the bird. "There's no sense in fearing the inevitable, Baby. Learn to live with it or get out." He calls out over his shoulder. Murdock rolls his eyes at his gunner. He takes the last rifle and pockets the clips. "All righty then… According to the map it's 2 clicks in ehm…" Murdock jumps from the chopper and aimlessly turns in a circle before randomly pointing at the jungle surrounding them. "…that direction. Thank you for flying Howlin' mad airlines. Please mind your step and have a nice day." Snowy and Tennessee chuckle and shake their heads, before swiftly moving into the surrounding brush. Murdock looks wistfully at the grounded bird before moving into the jungle in pursuit of the other two men and just in time too! The first sounds of enemy movement can be heard along the edge of the clearing. Faintly, Murdock could hear orders being barked out in Vietnamese and he hurriedly pushes the young man ahead. "Sir!"

BOOM!

The shock wave caused by the blast ruffles the foliage around them. Murdock hears the panicked shouts of the enemy soldiers and the screams of their wounded. He looks at his young companion, his smile not reaching his dark eyes. “That will keep them busy.”


	2. When They Bounce, They go Boom

B.A. seeks out the colonel. Two months ago, he couldn't have cared less about the fate of the blond conman, but after the events of the battle near Saigon he felt like it was his duty to look out after his 'little' brother. He knows he is younger than Face, but what he doesn't have in years, he makes up in pure muscle. He'd been in the enlisted mess tent when he heard how the then sergeant had single handedly mounted a rescue mission. Face had used his abilities to convince a chopper crew to fly in medical personnel into an insane battle zone and roused some of the troops to gear up and chopper in as well. B.A. had heard afterwards how Face had flung himself from the chopper into a virtual hailstorm of bullets to protect a young medic without any regard for himself. Much like how he ended up with shrapnel in his leg this time.

"How's he doin' Hannibal?"  
The colonel sighs and turns to B.A. "He's not doing too hot, Sergeant." Together they kneel besides the young lieutenant. His handsome face is clammy and deathly pale underneath the greasepaint, but his cheeks are flushed red with fever. Face keeps squirming, unconsciously trying to get away from the pain in his leg.  
"The fool know?"  
Hannibal shakes his head in denial, thinking about the pilot’s troubling change in character since returning to Vietnam. "He knows we have wounded."  
"He ain't gonna be happy you didn't tell 'm."  
The colonel's blue eyes flash momentarily. "He's going to have to live with that."

Murdock pushes his shocked young copilot along the path beaten by the hasty retreat of Snowy and Tennessee. Feeling like they have put enough distance between themselves and the chopper, the captain stops and whistles a bird call. He listens intently, quickly silencing the question he sees forming on the FNG's lips. Not too far ahead another bird calls out. Murdock repeats his call and he receives an immediate reply to his right. A smile forms on his face, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it.  
"I don't think peacocks are native in these parts, Kowalski." He calls out softly into the brush. A snicker and some rustling can be heard before Snowy comes into view. He's rubbed himself with mud to blend in better. The Vitiligo marks on his hands and face would stand out like a beacon in the jungle. Tennessee comes into view as well. Murdock beckons his men closer and unrolls the map.  
"We are here." He points to the map. "And this is the direction we need to travel to get to the team. Owens, you take point, you have the most experience on the ground." Tennessee nods. "Kowalski, you stay close to Baby here. I will pick up the rear." Baby scrunches his face up at the sudden nickname. For someone that had been practically begging them for a call sign, he sure wasn't very happy with the one he just earned. Captain Murdock looks each of his men in the eye. "This ain't gonna be a cake walk. This is high speed jungle hiking and it will be tough." He looks meaningfully at the copilot. "We suck it up and keep going!" Snowy and Tennessee nod and salute, taking their positions, Baby following close behind with a murderous look on his face. Murdock raises an eyebrow at the display. 'That one's gonna to be trouble.'

B.A. looks to the side at the tight and guilty look upon Sergeant Young's face.  
_One hour ago:_  
_The men had been exhausted after their disastrous mission near Khe Sanh last night. After nailing a Cong General everything went south and they ended up with empty hands, running for their lives. On their way, back to the LZ, the redhead had been on point with Face following close behind. There had been little warning. There had been a shout from Face to hit the dirt, before an earsplitting bang ripped through the jungle. On his way to down, B.A. saw Face tackling Young to the ground as the bouncing Betty went off, sending shrapnel in every direction._  
_B.A. rubs his face wearily and looks down at the suffering lieutenant._  
_Face had used the delay to try and save the sergeant. Dave Young had accidentally tripped a wire and set of the charge that sent up the piece of crap. He remembers the scream of pain that had ripped from his friend's throat when the blazing hot shrapnel lacerated his leg._  
_'When did I start to think 'bout you as a friend…?'_

_They'd carefully made their way to the duo, not knowing if there were any other mines around. Face was lying on top of Young, his eyes clenched shut and trying to contain his screams through gritted teeth. His hands were wrapped tightly around his leg, trying to stop the bleeding. Luckily, most of the blast had missed them and their gear had protected their backs. Together they had moved the wounded lieutenant and their medic, Olsen had started on working on the leg right away. Ray and Hannibal had scouted their immediate vicinity for anymore, nasty surprises while B.A. kept guard over the shaky sergeant and his wounded friend._

_B.A had half expected him to whine like he always does, but Face surprisingly refused any morphine. Sgt. Olsen had looked like he wanted to protest the choice but was interrupted by Hannibal._  
_"I have contacted COVEY, but they can't dispatch to this site. Too much enemy movement. We have no choice but to move to our designated LZ." The medic nodded grimly and started to work on wrapping the leg tightly. Face gasped in pain and tried to push away the medic's hands. Hannibal put his hand on the younger man's shoulder and spoke softly to him. B.A. couldn't make out what was being said, but when he saw the lieutenant swallow and nod, he knew a decision had been made. Face closed his eyes in resignation, when Olsen grabbed the vial of morphine and a syringe. After dividing Face's gear amongst each other, Ray took up point and Hannibal took up the rear, while B.A. and Young hoisted Face onto his legs and agonizingly slowly started to move along the path. Each step brought forth a strangled gasp from the lieutenant. It grated on B.A.'s nerves and he was almost ready to just carry the man to their destination, but a direct order from Hannibal stayed his decision._  
_"Better save your strength B.A." The colonel glanced at the sweaty face of his lieutenant._  
_The big black sergeant grumbled but eventually replied: "Yes sir."_

_Face almost made it back to the LZ before his legs gave out. He was panting harshly and tried to keep his grunts of pain to a minimum, his jaw set. B.A. however would not be fooled, because he could feel the blond's muscles tense up at every step he took. Eventually, he felt Face's grip slacken, his head lolling against his shoulder. B.A. slowly lowered the trembling lieutenant to the jungle floor._


	3. All the Luck in the World

Murdock's crew moves through the jungle with surprising efficiency. The captain has had training on the ground, both with the company and with the 118th. He knows the crew chief has had infantry training too before transferring to the 1st Aviation Brigade. Come to think of it, he's pleasantly surprised by his gunner too. Snowy has a good head on him. Murdock's eyes narrow. The copilot though, not so much… Spent most of his time in the mess, talking big but when push came to shove, Murdock doubted he would be able to deliver. Nothing new there…

He contemplates his life. In his second tour, he'd been in country for five whole weeks before crashing this bird. _'Drat…'_ In that time, he had gone through one copilot already. _'Drat…'_ And by the looks of it, this one will follow close behind. _'Double drat!'_ The boy had done nothing but complain up until now and it started to get on his nerves. Worse still, it seemed he had friends in high places too. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes he grabs his rifle a little tighter. _‘Yup, just his luck.’_

His thoughts meander back to the other two. Being part of a MACV-SOG operation had its perks, namely his own bird and crew. He doesn't know how Hannibal made it happen, because it sure ain't standard procedure. Sure, he still answered to his own commanding officer and flew missions for the 1st Aviation Brigade, but for MACV-SOG missions, Murdock's ass was Hannibal's. This also meant he never really was one of the guys. He remained an outsider. The guy the team expected to leave or die. His friendship with Face seemed to be the only connection he had to the team. Well, him and Ray of course, but his was a lonesome existence. When their old pilot had rotated out, Murdock had inherited the chopper and its crew. Luckily, he hit it off with the Chief right away, them both being Southerners. Kowalski was easy to please too. He liked his booze hard, his jokes bad and his women cheap. He pursed his lips in discontent. Their copilot had moved on to another assignment and Murdock apparently became in charge of training the FNG's. _'I'm the best god damn pilot in Vietnam, thank you very much!'_ Murdock kicks the underbrush a bit harder than necessary.

After a small break, Murdock takes up point position with Snowy and Baby at the rear. They watch their captain slink away into the brush ahead of them. During the break, he had seemed deep in thought and rather prickly. Even though they didn't know him for that long, it did seem out of character for the man. Sure, the Texan had seemed off at times, but usually was a lot of fun.  
"How does he know where were going?" Baby asks the gunner.  
Snowy looks thoughtful for a while. _'How does he know where were going…?'_ Tennessee claps the young copilot on the back and turns to him, lowering his voice conspiratorially.  
"Some say, he was once bitten by a radioactive homin' pigeon." He stage-whispers. "And if you rearrange the letters of his first name, he'll punch you in the face.”   
"I thought it was bats?" Snowy whispers back.  
Tennessee snickers. "That’s what the pigeons want you to believe... All we know is, he’s called the…"  
"Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" The three men jump about a foot up in the air at the sound of that southern drawl in their ears. Snowy whirls on the pilot and suddenly, Murdock finds himself staring down the business end of a M-60 machine gun. Blood draining from his face, the gunner quickly lowers the barrel, cursing up to high heavens. Tennessee rubs his chest dramatically.  
"Good God! One day, yer gonna go and give me a heart attack!"   
Murdock swallows and waits for his racing heart to calm down enough to breathe.   
“Well then chaps…” He coughs, trying to get his voice back under control. With a grimace, he nods at the men and resumes his point position. "Move out."

Major Ray Brenner glances at the fevered lieutenant from his guard position. The kid had been slipping in and out of consciousness ever since he'd collapsed on the jungle trail, leaving them no other choice. B.A. picked up the wounded man and carried him to the edge of the LZ like he weighed nothing. Which made perfect sense, looking at the burly young sergeant. Ray sighs… The kid had come a long way, from the FNG that lost his helmet 8 months ago, to the confident soldier he is today. Only his lightning fast reflexes and intelligence, had saved him and Sergeant Young from a far worse fate.

Hannibal's plan turned out to be a bust. Their objective was to draw out and capture a VC general near Khe Sanh. His knowledge about NVA activity on the Ho Chi Minh trail would have made him a valuable asset to the Americans. Ray shakes his head and sighs again. A jazzed-up Hannibal just can't leave a plan well enough alone. He always has to kick the hornet's nest. Which is exactly why Ray hadn't been jumping at the opportunity to join the team. He had several very successful missions as the leader of his own Special Forces unit and was awarded for them, more than once too. Ray reflects on his longtime friend. Hannibal is a force to be reckoned with, especially when he's on the Jazz. This usually gives the team an edge, others don't have. But not this time. The plan ended up in a game of cat and mouse and they'd escaped by just the skin of their teeth. The major looks up at the rapidly reddening sky. Just four more weeks, before he goes home for good. He'd been offered a training position at a base near his hometown. Trish is going to be so happy. The young lieutenant's shallow panting interrupts his thoughts. Ray feels his heart getting heavier with every shaky breath Face takes. It's not going to be long before they’re gonna need a miracle…

Murdock curses silently and drops to the jungle floor. An NVA squad is patrolling a jungle trail, a few yards from his position. So far, he hadn't been spotted, but chances are that these troops are looking for them. Making this just a 'tad' more dangerous. He quickly starts to think up a strategy. Seven men to his four aren't good odds. Especially if they can't use firearms. His brown eyes narrow in concentration. There is no way of knowing how many men there are out there. This may be a single unit, but they also may be scouts as well and any shot fired would immediately give away their position. He glances back to see Tennessee duck for cover, and he sighs in relief. He wishes he had more experience leading men on the ground. How Hannibal could do this day in day out and stay calm, is a mystery to him, because he is feeling anything but calm right now. On the ground he's like a damn bird with its wings clipped and he doesn’t like the feeling one bit.

The captain curses his luck once again. Murdock spots one of the soldiers meandering closer to where he is laying underneath the bushes and freezes. He feels beads of sweat roll down his face and neck but makes no move to wipe them away. The soldier is almost close enough to touch. Murdock's heart is thundering loudly in his ears and he's almost sure the other soldier can hear it too. Holding his breath, he slowly reaches down to the knife he carries on his belt. Sliding it out without a sound, Murdock brings it up to his chest. He stares at his target without blinking and tenses in preparation. There's no way they will make it to the pickup area in time if they don't move now. He looks up at the man, trying to figure out the best angle of attack. Fingering the handle of the knife in his hand he waits for the opportune moment to act. A booted foot is planted mere inches from his head. Ready to surge up and kill the enemy, he waits for the indication he'd been spotted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 118th Assault Helicopter Company "Thunderbirds"  
> I know that fanon has Ray Brenner as a 2nd Lieutenant with the team. After doing some research I found that this is unrealistic in more than one way. These are my reasons to have Ray be at a higher rank. Feel free to comment on this and if people with military backgrounds have information for me, please let me know!  
> First: There are no 2nd Lt.'s in Special Forces units. The lowest commissioned rank would be 1st. Lt.  
> Second: A commissioned officer would receive the rank of 2nd Lt. after finishing military academy. They serve for a short while before moving up to 1st. Lt.  
> Third: On the picture with Ray and the team he is wearing Major bars. When they go through his stuff it becomes apparent that he eventually got promoted to Lt. Col. The picture is supposed to be in Vietnam so that makes him a Major for some time with the team depending on what year he got promoted. I used a list of average ages and ranks in the military to interpolate Ray's military career. Given that Hannibal and Ray are longtime friends and Hannibal knows him right out of SF training tells us that he was at least a Sergeant (if he were enlisted) or a Lieutenant (if he were commissioned).  
> Note that these are averages and actual ages can differ greatly.  
> O-2 (Lieutenant): join + 18 months  
> O-3 (Captain): join + 4 years  
> O-4 (Major): join + 10 years  
> O-5 (Lt. Colonel): join + 16 years  
> O-6 (Colonel): join + 22 years  
> I used this handy chart to create Hannibal's military career too. To account for his rank of Lt. Colonel. while he was in Pleiku, for example. That probably means the attack on camp Holloway in 1965. The file in Mexican Slay ride just doesn't make sense to me.  
> So, with that out of the way, happy reading ha-ha


	4. Lie to Me

_Face had been walking in a daze. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right… The pain quickly became almost unbearable. He never had been in this much agony in his entire life! Left foot, right foot, left… 'Oh God!' He gnashed his teeth and tried to bite back the pained moan that threatened to spill from his lips. Right foot… left… foot… He stumbled and felt his legs give way. He would've crashed face first into the ground, if not for B.A. and Dave Young holding him up. Face could do nothing but gasp as he tried to regain his bearings. The edges of his vision slowly started to fray, and his blue eyes seemed to be unable to focus. His world slowly turned dark._

_A stinging slap to the cheek woke him from his unexpected nap._  
_"Come on Lieutenant. Wakey wakey…"_  
_'Hannibal…' Face tried to wrestle open his tired eyes but failed miserably. Suddenly, something vile was held under his nose and his eyes flew open as he tried to get away from the stuff. The Doc put away the smelling salts and resumed his checkup. Face blinked up at the open canopy above him and furrowed his brow. Something about the scene just didn't seem right. He looked around but had to quickly close his eyes. His vision swam and before he knew it, he was retching. He could hear the medic curse before he was rolled onto his side. Face violently expelled everything that was in his stomach and it left him shaking and weak. He felt himself being moved to another, probably cleaner, spot._  
_"Do you always have such a bad reaction to morphine?" Olsen asked the lieutenant._  
_Face nodded slowly, his consciousness slipping again._

_Another tap to the cheek woke him up again. He was so damn cold. He couldn't stop his teeth from chattering. 'Why couldn't they just let him sleep!'_  
_"Murdock should be in range by now. I'm going to try and contact him." Hannibal rose from his kneeling position. A feeling of panic overcame suddenly him._  
_"Relax Face." The medic spoke softly to him "You're gonna be all right."_  
_A loud curse sounded out. "They shot down Murdock's bird..." The rest of the conversation went over the lieutenant's head as he fought to stop the rising panic. His breath hitched and his blood-stained hands shot out to grab the medic's sleeve._  
_"Colonel!"_  
_Face's fevered eyes locked with Sergeant Olsen's. "Don't leave me behind!" Face gasps and swallows. "Please…" He was feeling lost and disoriented. He had no idea where he was, and Hannibal seemed like the only stable thing for miles around. "Hannibal?"_  
_The colonel knelt beside Face. "I'm still here." Hannibal put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Help is on the way kid." Face nodded and slowly relaxed._  
_Ray knelt beside him. "How's he doing Colonel?" Hannibal sighed and considered sugar coating it, even though he knew both men wouldn't believe it. They had enough experience to know the difference._  
_"You can lie to me if…" The blond caught his breath before continuing "if that makes you feel… better… Colonel." He smiled weakly, the pain making it look like a grimace instead. Hannibal smiled wistfully at the young man before speaking._  
_"You're going to be fine Face." Face squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pain hit him, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Looking at the clammy and pale face of his 25-year-old lieutenant the colonel sighed. He clasped the red stained ones in his own and grabbed Face's jaw to make his wandering eyes focus. "We leave no man behind…" Face nodded shakily before his eyes rolled back into his head and he faded out._  
_"He's not going to make it much longer colonel. He's lost a lot of blood." Sergeant Olsen looked down at the stricken young man. "Such a shame that…" The doc shook his head in sadness._

Murdock is almost startled into moving by the sound of a zipper being lowered and the sound of water hitting the foliage a few feet from his face. He fights the urge to wipe away the stray drops that hit his skin and remains completely still. He can't even remember the last time he breathed. Soon, the guy zips up and moves away. Murdock doesn't move, doesn’t breathe until the footsteps of the squad have faded away completely. Shakily he exhales, glad he didn’t have to… with a shiver he sheaths the knife and wipes his face.   
"Yer the luckiest son of a bitch I've ever had the pleasure of working with, sir." A strong hand helps him up and Murdock looks at the dark-haired chief. His adrenalin levels are dropping fast, and he’s feeling giddy. Held up by Tennessee's steadying hand on his shoulder he looks at the shocked faces of both his gunner and the copilot and starts to giggle. He clamps his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound, but he just can't help it. Tears are running down his face as he laughs hysterically, his body shaking with relief.  
"Almost got busted by a guy taking a leak…" he gasps between bouts of laughter. "Gramma ain't gonna like that." Murdock winces, his laughter slowly peters out. He swallows thickly. ‘No, she wouldn’t have liked that.’ True to his Murdock heritage he had a feeling his luck wasn’t going to last. This whole mission felt off somehow.

"Coward…” Baby looks at the older pilot with something akin to disgust in his eyes. Murdock’s eyes widen at that accusation and something inside him snaps. He waves away Tennessee's interference and locks eyes with the boy. A cold fury descends on the captain and he stalks forward, his brown eyes hard and unyielding. Even the monkey calls fade away into nothing as the atmosphere around them becomes charged. Suffocating in the unnatural silence, Baby hesitantly takes a step back and looks to Kowalski for help. The gunner raises his hands and steps back. Away from the furious captain and his prey. In his opinion, the boy had it coming for a long, long time! With lightning fast movements that almost defy the laws of physics, Murdock pushes the young man against the nearest tree and gets in his face.  
"Everybody's a hero, kid… On the ground… In the club… After the fourth drink…" Murdock lowers his voice menacingly. "But until ya had the questionable pleasure of killin' in cold blood, you will keep yer trap shut." Baby's eyes are wide with fear as he eyes dart between Murdock's cold, hard eyes and the two men guarding the captain's back. Murdock closes his eyes for a second shaking his head, trying to dislodge the memories of warm blood running down his hands and arms. His hands tighten on Baby’s collar, making the boy squeak before Murdock visibly reels in his anger, taking a shuddering breath. He refocuses on the boy before him, his Texas drawl making his words almost unintelligible. "Are we clear?" Murdock's eyes bore into the boy's making him swallow and nod. "I didn't hear ya. Are we clear?!"  
"Yes Sir!" The captain slowly moves back, making the boy slide down the tree bark.

With difficulty, he reigns in his temper. The altercation had done nothing but stress him out more. Damn it… Murdock turns around and retrieves his rifle. Without looking back, he barks an order to move out. This will undoubtedly come back to bite him in the ass.


	5. Double Crossed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some heavy going back and forth in time. Past happenings are in past tense of course and the rest in present tense. Both story lines are in their own chronological order. I hope it makes sense. If it doesn't, let me know!

It has been over two hours since Hannibal got the message that Murdock's chopper had been gunned down. Face's condition had been slowly deteriorating and Hannibal prays that help will come soon.  
The plan had been relatively simple. Get in, grab general, get out… But sadly, fate had other plans for them. They had received Intel that a VC General was stationed at a previously unknown base near Khe Sanh, overlooking the Ho Chi Minh trail. Getting in wouldn't be a problem for the team as they had a double agent stationed there. Smoking the bastard out would be difficult, but Morrison was determined to get his hands on the general. Hence his decision to send in Hannibal's rag tag team. Murdock did the insertion even though he just got back in country. The captain had tried to warn him after the first briefing, saying something smelled fishy about the whole thing. He'd dismissed it anyway, despite the younger man’s heated protestations. “The Jazz is going to get someone killed Hannibal!”

Murdock’s distressed voice rings through his mind. Hannibal chews angrily on an unlit cigar, wishing he could light it. He always thinks better with a good smoke, but the sweet smell travels far and would give away their position. A few days ago, the captain suddenly withdrew into himself. At the time, Hannibal had been glad for the silence so he could ignore his own niggling thoughts about the mission. He should have known it was going to go down badly! After all, Murdock seemed to walk on another plane of existence from time to time. He’d never steered them wrong before.   
After a long hike through VC infested territory, they arrived at the compound to be unpleasantly surprised. It seemed that their Intel was off… Again! It wasn't just a base. It was a virtual fortress! Hannibal rubs a hand along his mouth and jaw and huffs loudly.

_While taking their time to scout out their surroundings he felt the Jazz starting to sing within his blood. Time to shake things up a little… They met up with their contact, a Colonel called Quyet. Hannibal did not like the mousy looking man one bit. He had no patience for turncoats of any color, but Morrison had been adamant about the guy's authenticity. After infiltrating the compound under the darkness of night, and placing timed charges near the ammunition depot and any other tactically advantageous places, Hannibal couldn't resist leaving the general a little note._  
_"Aw man, why'd ya have to go and warn ‘em? Fool’s right! You're dangerous on the Jazz, Hannibal."_  
_"Now B.A. where's your sense of adventure? Besides," Hannibal smirked widely, putting an unlit cigar between his teeth. "I, have a plan." The men groaned at the calculating look in their CO's eyes. Face had looked at him and instantly knew he had drawn the shortest straw._  
_"Aw Hannibal, not the front door…?" Face whined, already resigned to his fate. "How am I going to do that?"_  
_"I'm sure you'll think of something kid." Hannibal patted his shoulder with a grin. Face groaned._

A rustling sound in the jungle catches Hannibal's attention. He quietly cocks his rifle and takes aim, seeing his men do the same. A familiar thrill cuts loudly through the quiet. He lowers his weapon and whistles one of his own calls. The same thrill sounds once again.  
"How nice of you to join the party Captain." Hannibal motions for the team to lower their guns as Murdock and his crew step out of the jungle and into full view. "Took you long enough."  
The muscles in Murdock’s jaw tighten before forcing a smile. He even throws in a sloppy salute before dropping to the ground, exhausted. "Can ya at least let me catch my breath before laying on the sarcasm, Colonel?" He is handed a canteen by the B.A. "Thanks big guy." He takes a sip before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "So…" Murdock looks around the group of tired men. "What's up doc?"  
Hannibal watches the pilot automatically scan his surroundings, while he's being brought up to speed on the status of the mission by B.A.

_The jungle lit up like the fourth of July when the first set of charges went off. There's nothing like some C-4 to make a dull day fun! The whole compound was in an uproar and Face took off running. There were people screaming and shots fired in every which direction. Three jeeps soon followed him. As Hannibal predicted, they couldn't get up to speed in the dark so Face ran, full speed along the jungle trail towards the trap set up by Hannibal. A few well-timed hand grenades sent two of the jeeps careening into the brush and into the thick trunks of the jungle giants. The remaining jeep, containing the increasingly irate VC General and Quyet, was following close on his heels. The lieutenant dove to the side right before the vehicle would overrun him as it slid to a stop before the roadblock, set up by the team._

_"Why am I... always the one... running for his... life!" He panted with his hands on his knees, trying to quickly regain his breath. The team stepped from the jungle; their rifles aimed at the jeep. A few short orders had the soldiers throw down their weapons. Hannibal stepped into the open, a wide grin on his face._  
_"Because you're really good at it kid." Face rolled his eyes and straightened up, still breathing hard. Colonel Quyet drew a gun on the sputtering general and pushed him away from the jeep. "Welcome General." Hannibal said jovially. "As much as I would like to exchange pleasantries," Hannibal made a show of looking at his watch, his face momentarily lit up by another explosion back at the compound. "it seems we have a flight to catch."_  
_"I'm afraid I can't let you do that Colonel Smith." was called out in a heavily accented voice before a single shot rang out. The general dropped to the ground, bleeding profusely before going still. Quyet casually stepped over the dead body and leveled his gun at Hannibal. The Vietnamese colonel barks out a few orders and suddenly they were surrounded by NVA soldiers, making the team look around uneasily. Quyet seemed very taken with himself and proceeded to tell them his story. They'd found the double agent within their ranks and executed him. Quyet had secretly taken up communications with the American side to further his stagnant career within the VC by any means necessary. He just couldn't get away with killing a general. Hannibal looked wholly unimpressed by the Vietnamese man's attitude. He stepped closer to Quyet, undaunted by the gun aimed at his chest. It made the other man take an unconscious step back._  
_"So you're looking to lay this at our doorstep?" He scoffed. "I'm sorry to disappoint you pal, but that just isn't our style." Hannibal smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with the Jazz as he shouted: "NOW B.A.!" A series of explosions took out several enemy soldiers, flattening the brush around them. Hannibal used the distraction to punch Quyet in the face and kick away the gun. A firefight ensued and despite coming prepared, they barely made it out alive and in one piece._

He sighs. He should have known their string bad luck would remain all the way to the chopper. If it weren't for that damned mine, they would not be in this position.  
B.A. and Murdock's raised voices alert him to the fact that the pilot isn't liking what he hears. Murdock surges to his feet and stumbles towards his ailing friend. B.A. is calling out after him, but he isn't listening to a word he says. Taking in the bloody bandages and the amount of blood soaked into Face's pant leg he's feeling kind of faint. He drops to his knees and grabs his friend's blood-stained hand, clasping it tightly in his own. He doesn't like the heat coming from the lieutenant at all.  
"Murdock…" Face's eyes are opened to slits and Murdock can see glassy baby blues staring at him. His blond short cropped hair is plastered to his head with sweat and his breathing is labored.  
"You ain't looking too hot, Muchacho." He says quietly.  
Face makes a face at his friend. "Thanks pal… You have… great… bedside manner…" Murdock flashes a small smile at Face.  
"You know me, buddy…" He wanted to add something more, but his words are failing him. Face slowly reaches over with his free hand and pats the pilot's forearm in reassurance. Their eyes meet before Face loses consciousness again.

From what he’d gathered from B.A. before rushing to Face’s side, Hannibal had started winging it yet again. Murdock sits back on his haunches and rakes a trembling hand through his hair. _'It's jus' too much… Being back in country, the mission, the idiot boy, Face…, the freaking Jazz!’_ The letter he received a few days ago, is burning in the pocket of his flight suit. Priority mail… Murdock agitatedly pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes. He hadn’t slept in god knows how many days now. This week’s events being played back in full technicolor every time he closed his eyes. A pained moan brings his thoughts to a screeching halt. Everything that could go wrong today did. And he'd warned them there was something off about the whole thing! Nobody ever listens to him! Suddenly, he is overcome with white hot rage. Murdock jumps to his feet and whirls on the colonel, his eyes blazing.

"What's ta use of havin' a plan, when ya don't stick to it."


	6. Punches Fly Too

He steps forward aggressively only to be intercepted by Dave Young.  
"You have no idea what you're talking about flyboy!"  
Hannibal's steely blue eyes lock onto the pilot's, but he remains silent. Murdock grits his teeth in agitation and easily sidesteps the red headed sergeant. He pulls back his fist and lands a solid punch to the colonel's jaw. He is roughly pushed back by Young and Olsen.  
"Stand down Captain!" Ray's commanding voice sounds through the clearing, but the pilot makes no indication he's going to follow orders. He pushes back against the soldiers, snarling expletives. Tennessee and Snowy jump up and join the standoff. Their fists clenched in preparation for a fight while Baby chooses to sit back to enjoy the show.  
"I said STAND DOWN!" Ray quickly intervenes before more punches can be thrown. The major puts his hand on Murdock's chest pushing him back.  
"NO! Ya can't keep flying by the seat of your pants and expect nobody to get hurt, dammit!" B.A. uses his bulk to hold back the two sergeants who are ready to pummel the irate pilot into the ground.  
"That jus' the way it is fool! The Faceman knows that too."  
Murdock turns to B.A. "You grunts are all the same. Ya think yer invincible! Don't ya understand? We flyboys are the ones that bag you!" 'That lose you!' he finishes inside his head. Hearing the hard-edged whop-whop of two approaching Hueys in the distance, Murdock takes a deep breath. His shoulders sag and his eyes are shining with some unnamed emotion. "I have to clean yer bits and pieces out of my… out of my bird…” his voice breaks and he swallows before continuing “Don't make me bag my best friend too…"

Hannibal's barked order makes, Young, Olsen and B.A. reluctantly step back, Olsen abandoning the standoff to tend to his patient. He strides towards Ray and Murdock with purpose, his icy glare sending shivers down the pilot's spine. Now that the rage has lessened, the weight of what he'd just done dawns on the captain. His eyes widen and he unconsciously steps back from the colonel. Ray moves his hand to Murdock's shoulder. Whether it's to provide support or to restrain him, Murdock has no clue.  
"Are you done?"  
Murdock winces as if being slapped. "I… Yes, Sir."  
Hannibal moves forward until he is almost nose to nose with the captain. Even though the pilot must look down to gaze into the colonel's eyes, the steel displayed in them, makes him feel small. Murdock swallows and tries to wiggle back some more. He isn't sure what to expect from this. The colonel's silence may hurt even more than any punch could ever do. He opens his mouth to try and apologize, but Hannibal is having none of it.  
"Can it, Captain!" He barks at the pilot. "I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but it stops NOW!" Hannibal whirls on his men. "We all do our duty. Whether it's up in the air…" He glances at the chopper crew. "…or on the ground." The men are buffeted by the roaring winds, caused by the Huey's main rotor blades. "Now move your asses!"

They quickly load Face into one of the arriving choppers. Murdock makes a move to get in the back with his friend, but Ray gently holds him back, shaking his head. He's seen the angry stares directed at the pilot and mixing the unit's now, would probably be detrimental to their health.  
Feeling hurt and betrayed, Murdock stalks toward the other helicopter. "HM!" A jovial voice greets him from the cockpit. "How's it hangin'?"  
"Jus' get 'r up." He replies curtly, in no mood for any extended conversation. He straps himself into a seat and stares at the jungle, ignoring the questioning glances from the pilot. A shake from Tennessee's head makes the pilot shrug and turn towards the controls, lifting the bird up in the air. The ride back to base is a long and silent one. Both Kowalski and Owens try their best not to bother him and Murdock feels grateful for their consideration. His thoughts wander back to Face and he starts to pray.

Upon their arrival at the base, Face is quickly wheeled into the MASH unit for emergency surgery. The team drops their gear where they stand and hunker down for a long wait. Hannibal sighs and lights up a much-needed cigar, though it doesn’t taste nearly as good as it should, while his lieutenant remains in surgery. Knowing the men won’t budge until they hear from Face, Hannibal focuses on the wayward pilot. Hannibal watches Murdock's gunner and chief grasp their captain's shoulder in silent support. They're good men… The colonel notes the curious absence of the young copilot. He sure didn't like the smug expression on the boy's face after the altercation back at the clearing, nor his unwillingness to stand up for his AC. Hannibal puffs on his cigar, deep in thought. He has an inkling about what the kid’s up to, which is exactly why he requested to be at the pilot's debriefing. When Murdock leaves to get ready for his debriefing, he casually walks up to the two remaining men. Morrison could wait…

What he’d heard from Kowalski and Owens was enough to make his blood boil. No wonder, the normally easygoing pilot had blown a gasket! He sits at the back of Colonel Scott’s office, smoking a cigar while the captain’s being grilled. He had to give it to him, the amount of patience Murdock displayed so far had been astonishing. The boy had apparently been a pain in the ass right from the start. Hannibal wished he had known about it beforehand, but what's done is done. Deep in thought, his eyes absently follow curls of smoke in the air. He takes a good look at the younger man's face. His angular features are made even more pronounced by the barely hidden scowl on his face as he stares at the wall, his posture ramrod straight. Hannibal must have zoned out a bit because he's startled out of his thoughts by a crisp salute from the captain. With military precision, he turns on the balls of his feet and exits the office. The colonel heaves a deep sigh. He should have seen it coming. Murdock still had 5 months of idle time back at home, but he came back way before his time was up. Even signing up for voluntary indefinite status…

Colonel Scott turns to Hannibal. "What do you think I should do with him?"  
Hannibal sighs and relights his forgotten cigar, taking the time to sort through his thoughts. This isn't the first time he's had to deal with this. He recognizes battle fatigue when he sees it, though the pilot’s usual exuberant behavior had covered up most of the signs. Hannibal must admit he hadn’t been looking too deeply into it either, a mistake he’s going to rectify. He turns to Murdock's CO. Time to save the kid's sorry ass before taking care of that copilot of his.


	7. Truth Will Out

Murdock is sitting on some tarp covered crates in a forgotten corner of the base, smoking a cigarette. After being debriefed, aka chewed out by almost every single senior officer within a one-mile radius, he was finally left to his own devices. 'Grounded for a week…' Murdock scoffs and exhales a lungful of smoke. 'Could be worse. Hell, I should be in the brig right now for assaulting a senior officer!' He knows he probably has Hannibal to thank for swaying Colonel Scott's decision. Instead of being punished for hitting Hannibal, they tried to pin everything else on him. From blowing up a perfectly ‘salvageable’ bird to the freaking weather. He barks out a mirthless laugh and reaches for the bottle of booze on the ground. A whole week without any significant sleep, finally made him resort to trying to drink himself into oblivion. He unscrews the cap and looks at the dubiously colored liquid. Shrugging he puts the bottle to his lips and swallows a mouthful of the stuff. He ends up coughing until his eyes water. "Ah, that's the stuff…" he croaks out between coughs. He had tried to see Face on more than one occasion but kept being brushed off by either Young or Olsen. He never felt the gap between their unit's more than he did now. Murdock mournfully stares into the distance.

B.A. had been patiently waiting for him outside Scott’s office. The big guy had taken him to a secluded spot and told him the rest of the story. About the bouncing Betty and how Face had sacrificed himself for another soldier, a teammate. 'A mine… After surviving all that, he stepped on a freaking mine!' Murdock’s glad that at least B.A.’s opinion of him had stayed the same. He smiles sadly. _‘Ever the fool…’_ He’d been dead tired when his unit finally met up with the team. A few days with little sleep and a stressful jungle hike will do that do a man... The pilot had been scanning the tired faces around him while listening to B.A.'s recounting of the damned mission. When it finally hit him, who was missing. He'd jumped to the wrong conclusion before B.A. could finish the story. _'Damn, I owe Hannibal an apology…'_ The thought makes him take another swig from the bottle, before settling it down between his feet. The whole mission had been a setup by the VC contact. Apparently, this Colonel Quyet had been in it to further his own position within the Vietcong. Colonel Morrison had been livid and had been looking for someone to blame for this whole mess. Something tells him, that this probably isn't the last time they hear from that Quyet guy.

The captain sighs and pulls out a wrinkled envelope. He unfolds the paper. _'Dear Captain Murdock, we regret to inform you…'_ The words become blurry and the pilot angrily wipes his eyes. He leans his elbows on his knees and puts his weary head in his hand. His face hidden by his army issue baseball cap.  
"Hey."  
Murdock is startled from his dark thoughts by a welcome voice. He unsteadily rises to his feet and envelops the blond lieutenant in a bear hug. "Ah ow ow… Murdock, watch out for the leg!" Murdock releases his friend instantly, sheepishly raking his fingers through the short hair at the back of his neck.  
"Sorry... So… yer nannies finally let you go then?"  
Face laughs and gingerly sets himself down on one of the crates.   
“I escaped.” He says merrily. Which probably was more like conning the nurse into letting him go outside when Young’s back was turned. Not his best work mind you. He’d even had to break out the poor orphan card to get past her. Sure, he’d been grateful for all the attention he had been receiving, but enough is enough. The hospital is making him feel smothered enough without someone watching his every move to make sure doesn’t escape. Face shivers at the thought of needle wielding nurses, no matter how cute they are. With their fine blonde curls and their lush pink lips… _‘Aaah Nurse Sandra…’_

Murdock sighs and lets his lanky frame drop down next to Face, startling the lieutenant from his pleasant thoughts. He reaches for his pack of cigarettes only to find it empty. With a growl, he throws it to the ground, glaring at it as if it's the source of all his problems. Face reaches for his own pack and shakes out a cigarette, offering it to the pilot.   
“Thanks, Faceman.” He murmurs before lighting it.  
Face lights up his own cigarette and nods at the half empty bottle of hard liquor sitting innocently on the floor. "Wanna talk about it?" Face looks at the letter, still clutched in his friend's hand. Murdock inhales deeply and sighs again.  
"My mom was only 17 years old when she had me and died when I were five years old." He swallows. "Nobody would have me so my gramma raised me instead." He folds the paper, reverently puts it back into its envelope and in his breast pocket over his heart. The two friends sit side by side for a while. Murdock feels that, whatever booze is in that bottle, is making him loosen up. "She's had a massive stroke." He takes of the cap and rubs his eyes. "She didn't even remember me. I couldn't…" Murdock's voice breaks and he masks it by quickly taking another drink. Face takes the bottle from his hand and screws the lid back on. Another one of Face's cigarettes bites the dust and he offers the pack instead. Murdock flashes a small smile at his friend and lights up another one.

Face waits for Murdock to sort through his thoughts. He already has a clear picture of what the letter is about, but he knows the pilot needs to say it. He had noticed the fluctuating mood and incredibly short fuse, but the mission had been his first priority. When the words finally do come, they are spoken so softly, he almost misses them. He watches Murdock run a shaking hand down his face and stifle a sob. Face had been orphaned at a very young age and despite having some memories of his mother, he can't remember losing her. After that came the orphanage and even though they were very loving and caring, he'd never had anyone to call his own. Face has no idea what it is like to lose a mother figure, like Murdock just did. He slowly moves closer to the distraught pilot until their legs are touching and puts a hand on his friend's shoulder. That small touch was all that was needed for the other man to hide his face in his hands and let out a real sob. Face feels his heart bleed for his strong willed, wildly funny, and loyal friend and he wraps one arm around the grieving pilot's shoulders. He presses his head against Murdock's, who turns his face into the lieutenant's shirt and simply let's go. Face feels his throat close up and his eyes burn but remains strong for Murdock's sake. They remain seated like that for some time, until the pilot calms down.

Rubbing his eyes dry, Murdock barks out a sorrowful laugh. "Some soldier I am." He sadly shakes his head and yawns. Face takes in his weary expression and the bags underneath his eyes.  
"How long has it been since you slept?" Face asks the pilot. Murdock stares into the distance in deep thought for a while, the booze making his hundred miles an hour brain slow down to a snail's pace. He woozily starts counting his fingers.  
"Two, three days... a week?"  
"You're asking me?"  
Murdock smiles crookedly and lays back against the canvas. He looks up at the star speckled sky. The same one he looked up at in his hometown of Beaumont Texas over two months ago. He stifles another yawn. That night he had decided to come back to Vietnam early. There ain't nothing left for him back home anyway. He'd packed his stuff and left. Murdock looks up at Face. The lieutenant is looking pale, but otherwise healthy.

"Ya think we still gonna be friends in 'nother 10 years?"  
Face tries to hide his startled reaction, by casually running his hand through his hair. He lights up another cigarette. The red glow is illuminating his handsome face as he thinks about it. In 10 years… He would probably have his white picket fence experience. A beautiful wife, 2.7 children and a golden retriever. Does the pilot fit in that perfect picture? He looks at Murdock to see his eyes finally closed in sleep, snoring softly. He sighs and shakes his head, smiling wistfully. He gingerly moves himself further up onto the crate and settles in for a long night of standing guard over his friend. Could they still be friends in 10 years...? Face looks at his friend, sleeping soundly beside him.

Yes... Yes, they would...


	8. Some Hannibal Love and Care

Murdock wakes up to a splitting headache and a horrible taste in his mouth. Groaning he rubs a hand over his stubbly face, the muscles in his back loudly protesting any movement. He tries to get a feel for his surroundings without opening his eyes. Tarp covered crates, ‘right… that covers the muscle ache’. A warm body next to him? Murdock scrunches up his face and wrestles his bleary eyes open. He looks to the side to see a very pale looking Face lying next to him on the crates. The lieutenant is fast asleep, his chest gently rising and falling. The pilot squeezes his eyes shut. ‘What did I do las’ night?’ He groans again and slowly works himself up in a seated position. His head is killing him, and he tries to shake it clear. ‘Oh no…. bad idea!’ The world dances around him and he almost hurls all over his lap. He quickly puts his head between his knees and tries to get his breathing back under control.

“That’s what you get for getting into Kowalski’s private stash.”   
Murdock’s eyes fly open and he raises his head too quickly. ‘Oh, my head…’ He moans loudly. He squints in the morning light to see a familiar red head sitting at the foot of his impromptu bed, studying last night’s bottle.  
“Young…” He croaks. He looks around carefully. “What time is it?”   
Face awakened by the sound of talking starts to stir. Opening his eyes and with a discontented sigh, the first thing he sees are the very amused green eyes of Dave Young. “Oh no…” He grumbles, warily dropping his head back on the tarp covered wood. His leg is hurting something fierce and the stiches are pulling on his skin. The lieutenant hadn’t planned to fall asleep last night after his daring “escape” from the hospital, but whatever cocktail they had him on made him unable to keep his eyes open. Heaving another sigh, the lieutenant rolls over and slowly pushes himself up.

Sergeant Young takes a subtle whiff of the bottle he just picked up from the ground. He scrunches up his nose and quickly screws the cap back, on holding it at arm’s length.   
“Time to get up flyboy.”  
Murdock glares at the other man through narrowed eyes and crosses his arms obstinately. “Yer not the boss o’ me.”  
Young snorts derisively and laughs. He tosses the bottle at the pilot who fumbles to catch it. “The colonel wants you in his hooch.”   
Without thinking, Murdock’s head snaps up and the world suddenly explodes in blinding white stars. He quickly covers his eyes with his hands, gritting his teeth. “Gotta stop doing that Muchacho.” he grumbles angrily to himself. With his aching head held firmly in his hands. Murdock rubs his face, once again reminded of the fact he needs to brush his teeth. _'It’s barely sunrise dammit!’_ He musters the meanest glare he can manage and throws it in the general direction of his object of ire. “NOW?”   
Young bends towards Murdock, their noses almost touching. “You have 30 minutes.” The stare down continues as brown eyes clash with green ones. He could almost see the wheels turning inside the captain’s head before the man lets out a colorful curse. The hungover pilot pushes past the smirking Special Forces’ Sergeant and quickly heads for the showers. Face tries to inch his way past the other man, but a strong arm foils his plans by wrapping around his shoulders, steering him towards the field hospital. The lieutenant nervously runs a hand through his hair and instantly turns on the whine.  
“Aw now Dave… Can’t we talk about this?”  
The smirk on the red head’s face grows even wider and Face groans.

Hannibal watches the pilot as he enters the team’s hooch and stands at attention before him. Freshly shaven and relatively clean, the only indication of lasts night’s drinking binge could be seen in the bloodshot eyes trained on the wall somewhere behind him. Hannibal’s blue eyes narrow. He didn’t become a such good leader without using his gut. Looking beyond the surface, Murdock looks positively exhausted. Biting off the tip of his cigar he casually leans back to light it. Fragrant blue smoke starts to swirl in the morning air and he pensively looks at the younger man. Despite their differences in character he finds the captain a very capable leader in his own right. Not afraid to think outside the box and quick on his feet, though he sometimes spends too much time inside his own head. Minutes tick by as Hannibal keeps observing his pilot. Face is known as the conman, but Murdock could give his lieutenant a run for his money if he wanted to. The colonel knows a poker face when he sees one. No, this will not do.  
Knowing the other man’s propensity for babbling, he waits patiently for Murdock to make his first move. Hannibal doesn’t have to wait long.   
“You wanted to see me, Sir?”  
The silence is finally broken when Murdock just couldn’t stay quiet anymore. The kid doesn’t know what to do with the situation and it’s starting to show in his body language, his gaze flicking back and forth between Hannibal and the far wall. The colonel’s eyes start to twinkle. _‘Perfect…’_

Hannibal ordered him to follow. He had expected questions about his behavior and had steeled himself against it, but none came. Perplexed by the colonel’s behavior he found himself marching to the far side of the base. His ears caught the murmurs and the occasional snicker from the men watching their progress. Murdock narrows his eyes in suspicion. _‘What the hell is goin’ on ‘round here.’_ Just when the snickers increase and turn into full blown laughter, they turn around the corner. The captain stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slack with awe. Before him an obstacle course has been laid out. It had everything! Car tires, mud pits, barbed wire, the works. God, it looked like there even could be some alligators hidden in there too. He instinctively tries to backpedal but is blocked by B.A. grabbing his shoulder in a steely grip. After having his retreat effectively stopped before it began Murdock stares at Hannibal in shock. _‘With that grin, who needs them alligators…’_

Completely stunned he opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. Even during his boot camp days, nobody ever made him go through something like… like…   
“The obstacle course of death…” He whispers.  
“Glad you like it Captain!” The colonel jovially claps Murdock on his back shaking him from his shell-shocked state. The men are momentarily distracted by the sound of someone complaining, loudly… It’s source easily distinguished by the tone of his voice. Rounding the corner, Face is hobbling painfully beside Sergeant Young with most of his weight on the redhead. The stabbing pain in his thigh, is making him regret the decision to leave the comfort of his bed last night. Though the drugs coursing through his system are progressively dulling it to a manageable level again. Finally noticing his surroundings, he stops mid rant. His mouth agape in a perfect copy of his best friend standing a few yards away. Looking at the obstacles laid out before them, he nervously tugs on his collar.

“Ehm… You guys sure have been busy.”


	9. Welcome to the Club

“Good to see you back on your feet lieutenant.” Hannibal smiles and puts a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Face narrows his eyes at his CO in suspicion. He’d been half expecting to be dragged off by the scruff of his neck and tied to his hospital bed. Instead he’s being lowered into a conveniently placed deck chair, his leg put up with care and a cup of coffee pressed into his hand. Face sits there, waiting for the other shoe to drop while Hannibal turns around to enjoy BA and Ray’s handiwork.

“It’s really a thing of beauty.” He smiles happily around his cigar and turns to Murdock. “Well then Captain, get to it.”   
Murdock shakes himself out of his daze and starts to sputter. His head is still hurting and his stomach churning at the prospect of having to go through one hell of an obstacle course. He almost misses the next words out of the colonel’s mouth. _‘Five laps?!’_ The pilot is starting to feel faint.   
“You can’t be serious…?” Murdock faintly hears Young jeering at him, laughing with his buddy the medic.   
Hannibal steps into the captain’s line of vision and grabs his shoulders. Startled brown eyes focus on him. Making sure he has the kid’s attention as he tries to get his message across. “I am serious Captain.” Regret flashes across the younger man’s face, but before he gets the chance to say anything, Hannibal continues. “You know I’m also fair.” Neither man speaks for several seconds, silent communication going back and forth between them. Murdock swallows thickly and nods.  
“Yes Sir.”  
Hannibal nods and releases the pilot. Murdock heads towards Face, taking the envelope from his breast pocket. The lieutenant looks worried as he accepts the crinkled piece of paper, knowing what it means to his friend. They make eye contact before Murdock turns on his heel and doggedly jogs to the starting line. He visibly steels himself, squaring his shoulders and starts on his first lap. Hannibal watches the lanky pilot scale the first obstacle. He doesn’t need to be an expert to see that Murdock is going through difficult stuff right now. Face’s reactions towards the pilot speak louder than words ever could. _‘Time to take care of the rest…’_

“Sergeant Young.” Hannibal smirks evilly as he puts his arm around Young’s shoulders. He takes the cigar from his mouth and uses it to punctuate his words. “I’m so glad you find this funny.” Dave looks like a deer caught in the headlights.  
“Sir?”  
“You see,” Hannibal taps his chest. “I’ve been thinking about this and I believe it’s only fair that you get to join Captain Murdock in this exercise. After all, I wouldn’t want to keep you from having fun.”  
“But Hannibal…” Young looks at his friend Olsen for help. The doc puts up his hands and tries to surreptitiously move out of sight, but the colonel is quicker.  
“You too Doc! Five laps. Go… go… go.” Olsen takes another step back only to jump about a foot in the air when he hears BA growl behind him. Not wanting to feel the wrath of the colonel he concedes defeat and pulls Young along with him. “Let’s get this over with…”

Ray moves to stand beside Hannibal, and they watch the proceedings in silence. He keeps a watchful eye on the pilot struggling to make it through another lap. The two special forces’ sergeants use every opportunity to rib the captain and Murdock gives back as good as he gets. He’s slowing down though… After the umpteenth slip and fall Ray turns to the colonel.   
“You’re going to push him too far.”  
Hannibal glances to his right but doesn’t answer right away. He chews the stub of his cigar looking pensively at the pilot, currently dry heaving on hands and knees. The hangover is viciously making itself known once again. B.A.’s itching to help his buddy out, but a sign from Hannibal keeps him stuck on the sidelines. With some difficulty, Murdock pulls himself back up and trudges on. His ability to persevere throughout most things that life throws at him is exactly what Hannibal admires in the man.  
“I don’t think it will come to that.” He watches Young and Olsen’s reactions to Murdock’s plight and breaks out a cheeky grin. “After all, I have a plan.”

Young is on his last lap when he overtakes Murdock again, casting yet another barb in the pilot’s direction. When no angry quip is forthcoming though, Young slows his pace and looks back at where Murdock’s struggling to get through the mud pit. Noticing the strangely vacant look in the captain’s eyes, the sergeant stops, breathing hard. Torn between wanting to be done with it and his instincts screaming at him to leave no man behind, his gaze flicks to the worried expression on the face of the lieutenant. Young rolls his eyes and groans. He owes Face his life, but that’s not the only thing that’s bothering him. He hadn’t expected the flyboy to last this long and newfound respect is trying to worm itself into his heart.   
“Dammit.” He plods back to where Murdock is currently sitting on hands and knees, trying to get his muscles to work.

“Come on flyboy.” A strong hand grabs him by the upper arm and hauls him up. “Just three more obstacles and you’re done.” Murdock looks at Young, dazed. His brain seems to have lost the ability to make heads nor tails of this new situation. Another hand grabs his other arm, startling the pilot. Looking to his left he sees the medic holding him up as well.  
“Come on buddy. Let’s do this”

Put at ease by the change in attitude, Ray turns to Hannibal. “I’ll be shipping out in a little over three weeks…” Ray gestures to Face. “Have you talked to him yet?”  
Hannibal sighs and rubs his jaw. During lasts weeks’ events, Ray’s return home had totally slipped his mind. Ray had been his conscience for quite a while now and he’s going to miss that dearly. Hannibal looks at Face who has lost the worried expression and is alternating between laughing at his friends’ expense and wildly cheering them on.   
“No, I haven’t.”  
Ray nods. “Better make it quick.”  
Struck by the youthful face of the blond lieutenant, it’s often easy to forget his actual age. Heck, he had been a Captain in Korea by the time he was 25! Face had been really coming into his own over the course of a few months. No longer the upstart troublemaker he dragged out of the brig, though he seems to be enjoying some rather dubious activities right now.

The proceedings have attracted a lot of onlookers, betting heavily amongst themselves. Face finds himself smack dab in the middle of the gaggle, playing bookie and cheering at the same time. Hannibal smirks. Face wouldn’t be Face if he didn’t try to swindle people out of their money. He would be lying if he said he didn’t place a bet or two as well. After all, Hannibal takes out a celebratory cigar and lights it. He loves it when a plan comes together.

The weary threesome drags themselves over the finish line and collapse on the ground, breathing heavily. The red headed sergeant pushes himself up on his elbows and smacks the pilot’s chest.  
“Congratulations… You’re… one of us… now.”  
“Yeah flyboy,” Olsen butts in, patting Murdock’s muddy cheek with an equally muddy hand. “you belong to the… Hannibal’s obstacle course… survivors club…”   
Covered in mud from head to toe, the three men lie on the ground, wheezing and laughing. Too tired to do anything else but savor the cheering from the men surrounding them and a sense of brotherhood that wasn’t there before.


	10. Fly Baby

Murdock fights to keep himself from skipping all the way to the parking ramps. After a week of being grounded, he can’t wait to be up in the air again. Granted it’s supposed to be a milk run, but he’s dying to put his new bird through its paces. Get a feel for her… Hannibal can’t fault him for that, can he? ‘No, I distinctly remember NOT hearin’ Hannibal say anythin’ like that. No siree.’ Murdock can’t help but skip at that thought. With a grin on his face and a spring in his step he rounds the corner of the first revetment and stops. Before him stands a brand new Huey with what looks like a big red bow taped to the nose. Snowy and Tennessee are leaning against it with matching grins. Murdock takes a moment to take it all in. He circles the bird, stroking her skin with his fingertips. No patches, no bullet holes, nothing… ‘I got me a virgin!’ He ducks under the tail boom to the other side and notices a message scribbled on the lady’s derriere in white paint.

SAY IT WITH BULLETS

Murdock throws his head back and laughs heartily. Tears of happiness form in the corners of his eyes and he hastily brushes them away before moving back to where Snowy and Tennessee are waiting for him. Murdock notices a third guy hanging around his bird. Following the captain’s gaze Tennessee moves to introduce the man.   
“Captain meet yer new copilot.”  
The young man snaps off a salute that Murdock automatically returns. He has a handsome young face with dark hair and even darker eyes. He exudes an air of calm, even though Murdock is taking his sweet time to check the guy out. He doesn’t seem to be in the least bothered by the flitting movements that are so characteristic of the captain. Liking what he sees, Murdock extends his hand in greeting.   
“I’m H.M. Murdock, and you are?” The man grabs his hand in a good solid grip.  
“My name’s Peterson sir. Pete Peterson.” Murdock looks at the guy before blurting out: “Pete Peterson! God, whatever were yer parents thinkin’!” The captain really tries to keep from laughing, but it’s taking everything he’s got. The copilot smiles, used to these kinds of reactions.  
“Yeah, not my first choice either sir. But you can call me Petey if you like?”  
“Yeah, that’d probably be the best.” Murdock schools his features into something more captainy. “Welcome on-board kid. Get the bird ready, I’ll be right up.” Petey nods and gets in the chopper to start on preflight checks. Murdock turns to Tennessee. “What happened to Baby?”  
Tennessee shrugs. “Las’ thing I heard, he’s flyin’ out today. Didn't look like he enjoyed it much though” The pilot nods and shrugs. Things are out of his hands anyway. Murdock climbs into the pilot’s seat and starts the engine while Tennessee locks the cockpit doors and gets in as well. As the engine warms up it starts to whine. The rotor blades are slowly beating the air gaining speed on every rotation. It doesn’t take long for the rotor rpm to get into the green and Murdock and Petey perform their last checks. He winks at the copilot and looks over his shoulder at the two men sitting behind them. Getting a thumbs-up, Murdock sharply pulls up the collective and the bird leaps into the air. The feeling of being airborne again is making a mighty howl bubble up from his throat and he lets loose. “Woohooooooo!”  
As he gets up to cruising height, the captain hears laughter coming from the headset. He smiles and looks to his left.  
“So Petey… Have ya ever heard of the Bang Stare Red Theory? It states that the louder the sudden bang, the quicker yer eyes will be drawn to the gauges. The longer ya stare at the gauges, the less time it takes ‘em to move from green to red…”

Hannibal and Face watch the liftoff from a distance. Face is sitting on some crates with his leg propped up on his crutches. They both smile, imagining the pilot’s howl as the chopper almost literally leaps into the air. They keep an eye on the bird until it’s completely out of sight. Knowing something’s up the lieutenant turns to Hannibal. He fishes a nice cigar out of his pocket and hands it to the colonel. Hannibal takes his time to enjoy the smell of good quality tobacco before biting of the end and lighting it.  
“Nice.” He moves to sit beside the lieutenant and looks pensively across the airstrip.

Face hadn’t been a happy camper when he figured out, he’d been set up. Hannibal had known the lieutenant would try to leave the hospital the minute their backs were turned. And it also didn’t take a genius to know where, or rather who he would go to first. It took some prodding, but Hannibal eventually got the gist of what’s been going on with their pilot. Hannibal sighs. Must be hard on the kid. Having no one to return to, back home… Ray had advised him not to keep the two of them separated. Face is Murdock’s crutch as much as Murdock is Face’s. If he didn’t know better, he’d say they got separated at birth… Now about Ray…

“What’s on your mind colonel?” Face looks at him and Hannibal matches the lieutenant’s stare, two sets of blue eyes clashing. It seems that Face hasn’t quite forgiven him yet. A great the tactician uses every advantage he can. Even the less savory options. Face must learn this if he’s to be Hannibal’s second in command.  
“Ray will be going home.” The colonel breaks the tense silence. The younger man visibly recoils and hides it by casually leaning back on his hands. He and Ray had bonded deeply over the past few months and losing the major’s guidance is a difficult pill to swallow.  
“Oh…?” Face looks bored, but the colonel could tell he had the blond’s complete attention. “Are you going to bring someone in?” Hannibal nods. Having the team at full strength is key to their success. After pouring over file after file he finally made his decision.

“Sergeant Suarez will be joining our team.” Face nods, deep in thought. He had heard about Suarez; he would be a great asset to the team. Suddenly something clicked in his head.  
“Wait a minute… that leaves me as the second highest ranking officer?” Face looks at his CO, surprised. “You want me as Second in Command?”  
Hannibal puts his hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder and grins around his cigar. “I know you won’t let me down kid.” He pats Face’s shoulder and leaves him sitting on the crates with a stupid grin on his face before calling over his shoulder.

“Don’t you love it when a plan comes together?”


	11. Chopper Pilot Wisdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to share

EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW IN LIFE I LEARNED AS A HELICOPTER PILOT IN VIETNAM.  
  
1\. Once you are in the fight, it is way too late to wonder if this is a good idea.  
2\. It is a fact that helicopter tail rotors are instinctively drawn toward trees, stumps, rocks, etc. While it may be possible to ward off this natural event some of the time, it cannot, despite the best efforts of the crew, always be prevented. It’s just what they do.  
3\. NEVER get into a fight without more ammunition than the other guy.  
4\. The engine RPM and the rotor RPM must BOTH be kept in the GREEN. Failure to heed this commandment can affect the morale of the crew.  
5\. Cover your Buddy, so he can be around to cover for you.  
6\. Decisions made by someone above you in the chain-of-command will seldom be in your best interest.  
7\. The terms Protective Armor and Helicopter are mutually exclusive.  
8\. Sometimes, being good and lucky is still is not enough.  
9\. "Chicken Plates" are not something you order in a restaurant  
10\. If everything is as clear as a bell, and everything is going exactly as planned, you’re about to be surprised.  
11\. Loud, sudden noises in a helicopter WILL get your undivided attention.  
12\. The BSR (Bang Stare Red) Theory states that the louder the sudden bang in the helicopter, the quicker your eyes will be drawn to the gauges. The longer you stare at the gauges the less time it takes them to move from green to red.  
13\. No matter what you do, the bullet with your name on it will get you. So, too, can the ones addressed "To Whom It May Concern."  
14\. If the rear echelon troops are really happy, the front line troops probably do not have what they need.  
15\. If you are wearing body armor, they will probably miss that part of you.  
16\. Happiness is a belt-fed weapon.  
17\. Having all your body parts intact and functioning at the end of the day beats the alternative.  
18\. If you are allergic to lead, it is best to avoid a war zone.  
19\. It is a bad thing to run out of airspeed, altitude, and ideas all at the same time.  
20\. Hot garrison chow is better than hot C-rations which, in turn, is better than cold C-rations which, in turn, is better than no food at all. All of these, however, are preferable to cold rice balls, even if they do have the little pieces of fish in them.  
21\. Everybody’s a hero…On the ground…In the club…After the fourth drink.  
22\. A free fire zone has nothing to do with economics.  
23\. The further you fly into the mountains, the louder those strange engine noises become.  
24\. Medals are OK, but having your body and all your friends in one piece at the end of the day is better.  
25\. Being shot hurts and it can ruin your whole day.  
26\. "Pucker Factor" is the formal name of the equation that states the more hairy the situation is, the more of the seat cushion will be sucked up your ass. It can be expressed in its mathematical formula of S (suction) + H (height above ground ) + I (interest in staying alive) + T ( # of tracers coming your way)  
27.The term ‘SH*T!’ can also be used to denote a situation where high Pucker Factor is being encountered.  
28\. Thousands of Vietnam Veterans earned medals for bravery every day. A few were even awarded.  
29\. Running out of pedal, fore or aft cyclic, or collective are all bad ideas. Any combination of these can be deadly.  
30\. There is only one rule in war: When you win, you get to make up the rules.  
31\. C-4 can make a dull day fun.  
32\. There is no such thing as a fair fight — only ones where you win or lose.  
33\. If you win the battle you are entitled to the spoils. If you lose, you don’t care.  
34\. Nobody cares what you did yesterday or what you are going to do tomorrow. What is important is what you are doing — NOW — to solve our problem.  
35\. Always make sure someone has a P-38. Uh, that’s a can opener for those of you who aren’t military.  
36\. Prayer may not help…but it can’t hurt.  
37\. Flying is better than walking. Walking is better than running. Running is better than crawling. All of these, however, are better than extraction by Medevac, even if it is technically, a form of flying.  
38\. If everyone does not come home, none of the rest of us can ever fully come home either.  
39\. Do not fear the enemy, for your enemy can only take your life. It is far better that you fear the media, for they will steal your HONOR.  
40\. A grunt is the true reason for the existence of the helicopter. Every helicopter flying in Vietnam had one real purpose: To help the grunt. It is unfortunate that many helicopters never had the opportunity to fulfill their one true mission in life, simply because someone forgot this fact.  
  
If you have not been there and done that you probably will not understand most of these.


End file.
